Birth of Another
by Trojan Addict
Summary: The death of Achilles has sent Briseis spiralling into depression, but the arrival of a new boy will brighten her spirits. She only has to contend with her new surroundings...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **_The characters of this story (except newly introduced ones) belong to the producers of the movie Troy and the Iliad of Homer; they are not my own creations. Also this is a first attempt so please review and I'll decide if I wish to continue it._

The tunnel was dark and damp, Trojans covered with sweat, dirt and occasionally blood, filled its breadth. Each pair of lungs was heaving with effort, but no one dared stop. At any moment one of Agamemnon's soldiers could discover the secret passage leading out of Troy.

One lone figure stood against the wall, trembling as the crowd plundered past. Once they had gone, she sobbed and slid down the rough rock, crumpling as she reached the ground. Tears ran down her cheeks but she didn't wipe them away, not until footsteps sounded. Jumping up and pressing herself flat against the cold stone, she watched the shadow of her pursuer get smaller and smaller as he drew near.

"Briseis?"

"Paris?" Emerging from the sheltered shadows, Briseis stepped into the dimly lit tunnel; she tried to hide her despair.

"Thank the gods no one has found the escape," He searched her face, something was wrong, and he knew what. "Briseis…"

Turning away, her voice was barely a whisper, "How could you?"

Paris was speechless, how could his own cousin be defending the enemy?

Briseis went on, "He came to rescue me, and you killed him."

"He killed my brother! Your cousin! How could you sit there and defend him?"

"I LOVED HIM!" The words tore from her lips as she stepped once more into the light. She fingered her curly brown locks that were knotted and limp from her weeping, her face suddenly softened, "Paris, I loved him."

"He took so many lives Briseis; you were the last woman I guessed would fall in love with Achilles." Paris stared in astonishment at Briseis' form. She had sunk back down to the ground, and was staring off into nothingness.

"I saw him weep over Hector's body the night your father came to retrieve it." Her voice was barely a whisper. This left Paris speechless again and he scraped the rock wall of the tunnel with the tip of an arrow that he had been idly twirling between his fingers.

"I cannot understand why you would continue to set fire your arrows when I pleaded you to quit…"

"I…was…" Paris was uncomfortable; he wished he hadn't stumbled into Briseis. He could not think of anything to say that wouldn't back him further into a corner.

"He had no weapons; his sole purpose in Troy was to rescue me. Would you not do the same for Helen?"

Paris took a moment to collect himself and put on a stern face, "I cannot undo the past, Achilles was a threat, perhaps not at that time but still a threat. Why not kill him whilst he was unarmed?"

"And that justifies it?"

"I will not apologize, what is done is done. Briseis we need to get out of this tunnel quickly."

He leaned down to help her up, but she thrust his hand away and stood on her own instead, straightening her skirts as she did so. Paris stepped back to let her pass.

"Achilles regretted Hector's death and many others," She swept past Paris but turned her head back as she went, "And you regret nothing."

They followed the winding tunnel for an hour before seeing a tiny speck of light in the distance. As they advanced each silently wondered if they'd be accepted with open arms or slaughtered like pigs on a farm.

And then they reached the end...


	2. Chapter 2

The sky was a cloudless, bright blue; welcomed after being in the cramped tunnel for so long. Briseis squinted into the sunlight as they emerged, Paris did the same; it took a minute for them to register their surroundings.

There was no sign of any other Trojans, it was impossible to tell if they had wandered off, been helped or attacked. Briseis was uneasy, as was Paris. Neither knew what to think when they saw a well-used path covered in fresh footprints before them. All around the path there were dense bushes and trees; the tunnel itself was well hidden in the brush, apparently long forgotten.

Briseis started as she heard footsteps and voices and she saw Paris clutch his bow tighter. A man and two women appeared on the path. Evidently not expecting to find people, the three figures also stopped short. One of the women, a slim, fair haired maiden, turned to her companions and whispered something before twisting to face Paris and Briseis once more.

Her face split into a wide smile, "Left behind were you? We have already aided the other Trojans…you are Trojans…?"

Briseis considered her options, answer yes and perhaps be taken care or perhaps be killed. Answer no and either be killed or not invited into the city. She could see Paris was suffering the same dilemma. Taking a look at her dirty hands and torn dress she decided she had to trust them.

"Yes, we were left behind." Her voice cracked as she attempted to clear her parched throat.

"Right this way then." The women's hair swished over her shoulder as she turned and marched purposefully down the path, Briseis followed along with Paris. Their leader's companions then took up the rear, somewhat apprehensively.

The city they soon entered was large but not as heavily fortified as Troy had been. Along the way the women had explained how their city, called Thralè, was the last of the cities not taken over by Agamemnon's army. It was a busy place, poorer folk stood outside their clay houses, washing clothes in a dirty stream that meandered past. The man that was accompanying them excused himself and disappeared into the massive crowd. Wending their way between beggars and women leading small children Briseis glimpsed a large stone building looming up ahead; she assumed it was the royal chambers. That was where they were headed now, according to the second woman.

Inside the building, the air smelled of must and mildew which made Paris gag a little and he earned himself a look from Briseis. They passed several closed doors and heard laughter or whispers behind many; the atmosphere was somewhat comforting. Up a flight of stairs the group came to a long, dark corridor where Briseis and Paris were told by the ladies to wait until they returned. With that the women turned and left. All was quiet. The pair waited for about a minute in silence, staring at the bleak stone walls, each awaiting the announcement of their own fate.

A little ways down the corridor, from the door that the two women had just entered, a scuffling was heard, followed by a familiar voice.

"Paris!"

It was Helen. And she sounded frantic.

"Helen?" Paris yelled.

"Paris! Paris!" Was the only answer. Followed by silence and just when Paris was about to burst through the door, it opened…


End file.
